LITMIR.BIZ

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would you?”

      Anxiety knotted her stomach by the time she moved down the aisle. Thank goodness everyone was standing, making her late arrival less noticeable. Gran, Austin and Trent lined the pew on the third row, so she slipped in beside Gran and joined in the chorus.

      When she stole a glimpse of her son, though, Blakely felt as though she were careening off of Imogene Pass.

      Austin and Trent looked so much alike, it was like a six-inch time warp. A younger and older version of the same person. When people saw the two of them together, the rumor mill was bound to start churning, hard and fast. How long would she have before Austin started asking questions?

      Her palms grew sweaty. She squeezed her eyes shut. Lord, please make this go away. Make him go away.

      After the service, Trent followed them outside. Puffy white clouds meandered across the sky, but storms often lurked on the other side of the mountain.

      “Mom, can Trent eat lunch with us?” The eagerness in her son’s tone was hard to miss.

      Trent touched the boy’s shoulder. “Hold on there, Austin. I imposed on you guys last night. It’s my turn to do the asking.”

      While Blakely cringed, Austin waited expectantly.

      “I was thinking about heading over to Ridgway to grab some lunch at the True Grit Café. I’d be honored if you guys would join me.”

      “All right!” Austin turned to her, looking as though he might wiggle right out of his tanned skin. “You love their fish tacos.”

      “Yes, I do. However, Miss Taryn and I have plans this afternoon.”

      Gran waved to a fellow church member. “I thought that wasn’t until three, dear.”

      “That’s plenty of time, Mom. Come on. Please?”

      The thought of having another family meal with Trent was about as appealing as a box of rocks. But that cherubic face pleading up at her made it impossible to say no.

      Defeated, she let go a sigh. “Oh, all right. But we’re not going to make this a habit.” Though the words were directed at Austin, she glared at Trent.

      “Great. My truck’s parked right over there.” He pointed to a white four-door pickup. “That is, if you don’t mind me driving?”

      Before she could respond, Austin ran ahead.

      “You all have fun.” Gran tucked today’s bulletin inside her Bible.

      “What?” Blakely’s voice drifted up a notch. She quickly tempered it. “You mean you’re not coming?”

      “It’s the third Sunday of the month, dear. Florence and I are doing brunch at Bon Ton.” Her all-too-coy grandmother turned to leave, then paused and smiled. “However, you’re certainly welcome to bring me a piece of the Grit’s wonderful pie.”

      * * *

      Trent couldn’t help noticing the way Blakely hugged the passenger door of his pickup on the drive to Ridgway. Her ponytail was gone today, allowing waves of strawberry-blond curls to spill over her shoulders, free and easy. Now if only she’d loosen up.

      Good thing they had Austin to keep things lively.

      “Trent, did you know they made the movie True Grit here?” Austin poked his head between the front seats as Trent pulled into a parking space near the park. “The hanging scene was right over there.”

      “I don’t believe it.” He put the vehicle in Park.

      “Really. It’s true. Right, Mom?”

      “Absolutely right.” She opened her door, apparently eager to escape. Like being in these close quarters, having to endure the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, wasn’t driving him crazy.

      “That’s why True Grit’s called True Grit.” Austin hopped from the backseat, gravel crunching when his feet hit the ground.

      “You ever see that movie?”

      “Lots of times. John Wayne is cool.”

      Trent stepped down, his thumbs dangling from his belt loops. “I’d have to agree with you there, Pilgrim.” A lame impersonation of The Duke, but Austin laughed anyway.

      Though the soft giggle that filtered through the cab was what really got his attention. He’d missed that laugh. Hoped to hear more of it. Even if it meant pulling out his Elvis impersonation.

      Across the street, he held the door open as Blakely followed Austin inside the restaurant.

      The True Grit Café, a longtime favorite of locals and tourists alike, hummed with energy, not to mention the aromas of Tex-Mex and comfort food that made his stomach growl.

      A ponytailed brunette scurried from behind the L-shaped bar and across the wood floor. “Table for three?”

      He nodded.

      The young woman grabbed a stack of menus and led them past the stone fireplace to a booth at the back of the restaurant.

      Blakely slid in beside Austin as the waitress handed out menus and took their drink orders.

      “Look.” Trent pointed to a picture of a young John Wayne hanging on the wall next to them. “We get to eat with The Duke.”

      Never mind that every other patron did, too. Movie memorabilia lined the walls of the restaurant. And though actor Dennis Weaver had been Ridgway’s most famous citizen, John Wayne still reigned as king at the Grit.

      Cheek resting on his fist, Austin opened his menu. “You’re so weird.”

      Trent’s mouth fell open. His first slam. Oh, no.

      Opposite him, Blakely struggled to contain her laughter. “Welcome to the wonderful world of—” She stopped, leaving off the proverbial “parenthood.” “I mean, welcome to my—”

      World, he was tempted to add.

      Finally, she gestured to their son. “See what I have to put up with?”

      He shouldn’t get enjoyment from watching her squirm, but he couldn’t help it. She looked so darn cute in pink.

      Now she hid behind her menu.

      Trent tried to focus on his own. “What are you getting, Austin?”

      “I can’t decide. Either tacos or a hamburger. They have the best hamburgers.”

      “That we do, young man.” The waitress deposited their drinks, tucked the small tray under her arm and withdrew a pad from the pocket of her black apron. “So what would you like to order?”

      After a few moments of indecision, Austin opted for the burger. Trent joined him, while Blakely ordered the fish tacos.

      “Hey, Trent.” Austin swirled a straw through his Sprite, watching the tiny bubbles on the sides of the glass. “Did you know Adventures in Pink is the best tour company in Ouray?”

      “So I hear.” He emptied a packet of sugar into his iced tea, glancing Blakely’s way. “By the way, when did The Jeep Company become Adventures in Pink?”

      “About seven years ago.” She peeled the plastic covering from her straw and poked it into her glass of water. “Granddad wanted something to set us apart. We toyed with the idea of red, but that was too generic.” She took a sip. “Pink started as a joke. But the more we thought about it, the more we liked it. Especially once we came up with the name Adventures in Pink.”

      “And I see you’re doing more than Jeep tours.”

      “Hence the adventure part.” She unrolled the napkin from around her silverware and laid it across her lap. “By teaming up with businesses in Telluride and Ridgway, we now offer river rafting, fly-fishing, even hot air balloon rides.”

      “Sounds like strategic marketing.”

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